


Airfoil

by Crescental



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Animal Traits, Clint can be a turd, Gen, Protective Pepper, Team Bonding, Team Feels, Tony Feels, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Hates Magic, Tony Stark has wings, Tony has nightmares, Tony-centric, Wingfic, subtle PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2183541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescental/pseuds/Crescental
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time finally came where Loki casted a spell on one of the Avengers. It did get interrupted, but Tony still has to deal with huge bird wings on his back for who knows how long. If Tony could figure out what he wants, if they could stop being attacked, if they could get Loki to undo the spell, and if Clint could stop making bird jokes, then everything would be just great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. List of Things to Blame

"Yep, Tony. Everything points to you being part bird," Bruce leaned away from the computer he had just been looking at, turned in his chair to face Tony, and pushed his glasses up his nose to hide his smirk at the comical look on the billionaire's face and how the huge wings attached to the man fluttered at the sentence.

"What!?"

"It seems the spell Loki casted on you was meant to, uh, turn you into a bird, but since Thor interrupted… Well, you're about three quarters human, and one quarter bird right now."

A certain archer spoke next, "Should I get the bread crumbs?"

Tony glared and he flipped Clint Barton the bird.

Bruce sighed at the two of them, "Just be glad you didn't get any more outward traits besides the wings."

"Yeah, just imagine Iron Pants with a beak," Clint let out a laugh. "Or better yet, chicken legs."

Tony couldn't stop his new wings from poofing angrily.

"Why the hell did Loki want to turn me into a bird!?"

"Are you seriously asking that?" Tony stubbornly refused to turn towards Clint, but the assassin could see the confusion on his face. The archer rolled his eyes and continued, "If you were annoying us with the insults you were throwing at Loki, and we only heard you through the commlink, imagine how annoyed he was!"

The shy scientist added on, "The fact that most of the jokes were bird jokes probably didn't help."

Tony snorted, "Did you guys not see his outfit!? It was asking for it!"

Clint looked irritated, but his eyes and next statement told them that he agreed with Tony. "I wonder why he wore a different armor anyway."

"Maybe he had to wash it at a dry cleaning joint?" Tony's smirked and Clint chuckled.

Bruce let out an irritable sigh, but it failed to hide his amusement. "Whatever the reasoning, it didn't exactly help on your part," Banner lifted a hand, gesturing to the wings.

Prompted to look at the limbs, Tony unfurled one of his large wings, looking at it for the first time.

The tips were a dark brown, looking black at a first glance. The wing got lighter towards the top, turning from the inky brown, to a wine red, and then to a cherry red. There was a light, almost unnoticeable, orange hue at the top of wing.

"Great," he muttered inaudibly; the situation finally hitting him. Tony sighed and ran a hand over his face. His wing closed tightly to his back instinctively. The two appendages on his back pressed closely together, easily showing the stress he felt as he thought about how having wings would affect his life.

Tony turned back to Doctor Banner to see he was examining him. The billionaire's face was blank, but his wings shuffled nervously. He inwardly cursed in frustration at how the wings showed his inner emotions so easily.

Tony cleared his throat. "So, what was all that you found?"

The man with the alter-ego of the Hulk looked at the billionaire in confusion for a moment, and then he realized he was talking about all of the tests they had done earlier to see if there was anything else the spell had done to him.

Bruce quickly turned to one of the many large computers behind him.

A click of the mouse sounded. "Okay, the spell Loki cast, as I stated earlier, made you about a quarter of a bird."

Clint interrupted, "What kind of bird?" Tony raised an eyebrow at the other man, wondering why he cared; he sure didn't.

"I'm not sure. I think it's a predatory bird, and it's probably some kind of Asgardian bird. We could ask Thor to be sure-"

"Wait, why would Loki want to turn you into a meat eating Asgardian bird!? Why not a canary or something?"

The three shared uneasy looks. Tony shrugged, his wings moved with the motion. He grimaced when they rubbed uncomfortably against the fabric of his shirt they ripped through. The genius had been surprised the whole back of his shirt hadn't torn apart when his wings had sprouted from his back.

Then he noticed that other two men were looking at him oddly, he figured that his discomfort had shown; he wasn't sure if it had shown on his wings, his face, or both. Growing uncomfortable, Tony talked, trying send them the hint to ignore him and move on.

"Doesn't matter," the doctor looked at Tony, scrutinizing him. The billionaire concentrated on keeping his wings still to hide his emotions and moved his hand in a 'go on' motion towards the doctor. Bruce gave an uncertain nod before turning back to the computer.

"Alright, so where was I… Okay, you have a wingspan of thirty feet, so each wing is about fifteen feet."

The genius rolled his eyes, already knowing that; he had done the math.

But at Clint's whistle, Tony smirked and was unable to stop his feathery appendages from somewhat preening themselves.

In the pause that followed, Bruce hummed.

Tony frowned, wondering why the scientist had stopped.

Clint voiced their confusion, "What is it?"

Bruce peered over his shoulder at them and looked like he just remembered they were there. "Oh, uh, nothing. It's actually a good thing." Tony raised an eyebrow. Doctor Banner took his glasses off and rubbed the lenses on his shirt as he smiled up at Tony. "I'm no bird expert, but with that wingspan and these other… changes you got from the spell. Well, you could fly if you wanted to."

When the billionaire's eyebrow only rose higher and the archer gaped, Bruce beckoned them over.

He pointed at the computer screen, gesturing at the scan of Tony they had taken earlier and to a diagram of a large bird next to it.

"See, you got just about everything you need in order to fly. You have the extra muscles, bones are hollow, etcetera. You even lost a little weight."

Tony's face was carefully expressionless, but his mind was thundering at the thought of him flying without his suit.

He covered his inner emotions in his face and body language like usual, but his wings were vibrating oddly now, like a little kid that could barely contain his excitement at the thought of going on a carnival ride. That kid was also on a huge sugar rush.

Tony, extremely annoyed by his wings at the moment, spoke quickly to try and derail his thoughts from the idea of flight.

"How is any of this a good thing?"

"Dude! You can fly!" Tony scowled at Barton, angry that he had brought up the topic of flight again. His wings had just started to calm down, and now they were excitedly jumping and moving constantly again.

Clint's face was full of disbelief, and Stark briefly wondered why before it hit him.

He smirked, "Do I detect jealousy, Hawkeye?"

The archer scoffed, looking utterly insulted that he would say such a thing. Tony mentally applauded the man at his acting skills, though they weren't as good as his own.

Clint didn't directly answer, but his next statement was enough evidence to say that he was indeed jealous.

"You should be at least a little happy Stark. There hasn't been anything done to you to cause major problems."

"Well," they both turned back to the shy scientist that spoke up. "That's accounting to the possibility that there was nothing more done."

Apparently, the two men's puzzlement showed as Bruce continued. "We've only done physical tests. We don't know if he's changed some other way as well, like if he's change mentally or if there are foods he can't eat now."

Clint automatically looked sad and sympathetic, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. Tony braced himself for whatever the archer was going to say or do, having a feeling Clint was about to get his revenge for saying that the archer had been jealous earlier.

"Tony, remember we're here to help you if you need us, so don't feel ashamed to tell us that you're hungry and crave a can of worms."

Tony, though he would never admit it, had gotten a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when Clint had said that they were there to help him through this, but the feeling had instantly vanished with the worm comment.

He knew that Clint had meant no real harm with his statement and was just getting revenge for Tony's previous comment, so he was completely surprised — and innocent — when one of his wings suddenly unfurled and slammed into Clint, sending the man across the floor.

Bruce and Tony were silent and frozen as they looked at the still figure splayed out on the ground.

A curse brought them out of their states of shock. They both examined Clint. Tony did so from a distance while Banner knelt down next to the man.

"He's okay. Just got the wind knocked out of him."

Knowing Clint was okay (a loud curse confirmed that), Tony allowed himself to smirk.

Though he hadn't been in full control of his wing in that instance, the billionaire knew he had been conscious enough to pull back on the hit, and he had still knocked down Clint, an assassin. He felt his smug smile was justified.

"What the hell, Stark?" Barton asked in a tone that had clearly meant to sound threatening but had been ruined by the heavy breaths in between each word.

Tony wisely made his smile go away as Clint sat up with a little help from Bruce, just because Barton was unable to attack him now didn't mean he wouldn't later.

The only man standing raised his hands defensively, "That, honestly, was not my fault." At Clint's disbelieving glare, he quickly continued. "They have a mind of their own." Which really was true, or it felt like the truth any way.

His explanation only seemed to worsen the situation as Clint's scowl grew even more heated.

Bruce sighed, "C'mon, it's not like you got hurt anything."

"Yeah, only his pride was damaged. No harm, no foul."

The scientist caught in between the two sighed and ran a hand over his face, knowing that there was hardly anything that was able to stop these two.

Clint, having regained his breath, stood up and leveled his glare at the billionaire across from him. "Did you just-"

"Yes, I did just say that. Get on the program bird-brain."

"Oh, you are in no position to be making bird jokes!"

Bruce took a deep breath, trying to push down the irritation he felt. If those two weren't going to calm down, he would let the Hulk beat some sense into them.

Just as Tony was about to make a comeback, the door to their left opened, revealing Natasha Romanov. She looked calm on the outside, but from knowing her a while, they (Clint especially) could tell that the redhead was mad.

They stared at her, wondering why she was there and why she would be angry.

And then they remembered.

Bruce had literally dragged Tony to his lab (with the help of Clint) the moment they had gotten back to the tower after the failure of containing Loki, who had miraculously escaped from Asgardian prison and then retreated to Earth to most likely get revenge.  
Banner had said it was essential that they figured out what exactly the spell Loki casted did to Tony besides the obvious of giving him large wings.

After much persuasion, Tony had begrudgingly agreed to partake in the tests, sarcastically saying he had always wanted to be a test subject, but the deal Tony had made them agree to was that only him and Bruce would be present during the tests.

He didn't want to be crowded and prodded like an actual test subject.

Luckily, Bruce had seemed to sympathize with the genius, and pushed the rest of the team out. Clint kept sneaking back in, so Tony, in a burst of frustration, had said he could stay.

Bruce's tests only consisted of doing a few physicals and having Jarvis scan him a couple times (Tony had deemed him the best science bro ever). Clint had not been as kind, and (for the sake of being annoying) had almost chased the billionaire with a needle, saying that they should do a blood test as well.

Dr. Banner had, thankfully, intervened saying that they would do a blood test later, claiming that finding physical changes were more important.

Then it had slowly led to the present.  
But through all of these events, they had gotten sidetracked and had forgotten that when Bruce had pushed the rest of the team out of his lab because of Tony's deal, he had promised them that they would tell them the test results as soon as possible.

Apparently, they had taken way too long, hence Natasha standing angrily in the doorway.

Scared out of their wits, the two men that were standing jumped when she spoke.

"Now if you two idiots are done, I suggest you head to the living room. Thor and Steve are getting antsy, and if you remember what happened last time-" Before Natasha even finished the last word, Stark all but sprinted out of the room; his wings flapped slightly to give him an extra boost.

They could still hear his curses and almost incomprehensible sentences (they could barely hear him say not my beautiful tower) when he was inside the elevator, riding it up to the floor where Thor and Steve was.

Natasha turned around and faced the remaining men, crossing her arms.

Bruce took that as a cue to leave immediately, so he did, quickly standing from his crouch and running out the door. Ignoring Clint's pleas of not leaving him alone with the Black Widow was surprisingly difficult; he sounded really desperate. He only heard a little of what they said before he got too far away.

"Tash- l-listen! He said my pride means nothing! You know that-" A loud smack cut him off.

*******

Natasha and Clint, who was nursing a cheek, got to the floor where the rest of the team was not even a minute after Bruce did.

There were three large couches circled around a coffee table; a TV was hanging from the reddish-brown wall across from the assassins. Steve and Thor sat on the couch on the left. Bruce sat at the one across from it. Tony was standing in front of the same couch, glaring at it, with his wings fluttering in what could only be annoyance.

They walked further into the room, and heard Bruce finishing his sentence.

"-lay on top of me. I really don't mind."

Clint and Natasha simultaneously raised an eyebrow. Natasha did so out of confusion, and Clint because of the perverted thoughts that ran through his head. Regardless, they sat on the couch in between the other two; the only one facing the TV.

"No, I don't want to suffocate you." Tony seemed serious for a change, which really meant that his voice lacked the sarcastic tone, but Bruce still sent a look of disbelief at the billionaire, showing just how much he believed him.

"Then why don't I just lay on top of them?" Tony, wings and all, shivered at the suggestion. That was a definite no.

Barton chose to make his presence known then. He had a good idea of what they were talking about, but he just had to have them clarify. And he may of just wanted to comment on how wrong their conversation sounded to him.

"Care to explain what you two are going on about, or are you going to let me keep imaging naughty stuff?" Natasha slapped him, Steve and Bruce blushed, Thor chuckled, and Tony was, oddly, silent.

Everyone either raised an eye ridge or gaped at the newly winged man.

When he stayed quiet, Bruce decided to explain to the two assassins.

"Well… Tony's not quite sure how to sit on the couch."

"You're kidding me right? You're a genius, and you can't figure out how to sit down?" Clint let himself feel proud that he got a reaction from the billionaire, but he regretted it as Tony turned to send a glare with eyes that held barely hidden panic.

Then it hit all of them; this was really stressing Tony out. At first, it did seem sort of silly that he was reacting so badly to not being able to comfortably on a couch, but then they realized that was exactly it.

Stark was most likely thinking about having wings permanently. If he couldn't sit on a couch, what else could he not do, like wear the Iron Man suit?

And they were spot on.

One downside of being a genius was that your brain never shut up. When he had started to sit down like any normal person would and suddenly realized he couldn't because of the wings on his back, his mind had run rampant on what other things he would have problems with now.

Once he had managed to calm down enough to actually think of ways he could sit down, and then the first idea he had thought of hadn't worked, he had spiraled downwards again. He struggled to control his breathing, and as much as he tried, he couldn't subdue the quivers of his wings.

It sucked that he had become so much more prone to panic attacks ever since the Battle of New York.

Luckily — or unluckily, depending on whose point of view it was — the team noted his shaking wings and slightly uneven breathing, and it was enough evidence of Stark's anxiety for them.

They noticed this at the same time; Steve Rogers was the first one to act.

"Why don't you have them wrap around you?" Tony almost jumped at the sudden voice.

When he registered the Captain's words, he grimaced. If Steve was giving him suggestions of how to sit, then he really wasn't hiding his panic attack well. And he also didn't want to look like he was cuddling with himself, but he tried the position anyway. He was up for anything.

Tony sat down, and his wings curled around him.

One was above the arc reactor, and the other one wrapped around his torso. He immediately hated how insecure he looked at the moment, and even though they were his own, he hated how constricted he felt.

Tony knew that this position really wasn't too bad, and that he was overreacting (well, overreacting even more). But his mind was still running a mile a minute of what his future would be like with these things on his back.

He shook his head in a no. The team didn't comment on his distress. And if they thought he was being ridiculous since that position worked, they didn't complain.

Clint noticed how the back of the couch was far too high for Tony to throw his wings over it, so he voiced a different idea. "What if you lay them along the couch?"

"That's what we were saying when you walked in, but Tony said it would suffocate me," Bruce pointedly looked at Tony, who threw his hands up into the air. His wings followed.

Clint would die before he ever admitted it aloud, but the large wings posed in the air like that was actually very intimidating.

Thankfully, the wings fell down to the billionaire's side before he noticed that he had alarmed his team — even Thor. They all shuddered to think how Tony would brag if he found out.

They were brought out of their thoughts when Tony talked.

"Have you seen how big these things are? You'd drown underneath them."

They couldn't tell if he was being honest.

"Yes I have, but I really don't think they would suffocate me." To prove Bruce wrong, Tony spread his red limbs out, both wings far succeeded the ends of the couch.

The other Avengers felt their eyes widen when all they could see of Banner was the top of his head and his legs and feet. The rest of his body was made invisible by the large wing covering him.

Bruce's hands appeared above his head to then gently push the top of the wing down just so he could make his face visible, but the wing was now hanging off of the couch slightly.

Tony sent the other scientist a look that said 'I told you so' and began to move his right wing towards himself, but Bruce halted the movement by patting it.

The genius stared at the spot he had touched. It was going to be hard to get to used to having feeling in a way he never had before, especially on something that technically shouldn't be there.

He barely caught Bruce's comforting words.

"It's alright. I don't mind."

The winged man snorted, "Really? These things aren't exactly light. They've got to be flattening you right now"

"Nah, they're like thick feathery blankets." Everyone chuckled at how insulted Tony looked; he wasn't too fond of being called a blanket.

Ultimately, Tony made the decision of where his wings went. He lifted his right wing and threw it onto his lap.

The billionaire took a deep breath and blinked, registering that he was sitting comfortably... on a couch… with wings. Yes he was taking up more than half of the couch, but it still worked.

He cursed inwardly; he really did freak out over nothing. He was a genius and he panicked because he had been unable to sit down with wings.

Tony took it over to the fact that his brain was fried from the fight with Loki that had taken place less than three hours ago, the fact he was still just getting used to the idea of having wings, and the fact that his brain had refused to shut up and had continuously envisioned his future with these things.

His mind was clearer now though, and he realized how stupid he had been. Tony was grateful that the team was acting like they were oblivious to his distress and helping him out, but still, he had been on the verge of a panic-attack in front of them.

And now they were obviously trying to not look at him. He cleared his throat; eyes immediately turned to him.

"Bruce do you wanna…"

"Right. So from the few tests we did, I can say that Tony is about a quarter of a bird right now."

The team almost jumped in surprise at the sudden change of mood and topic. Though they were glad to finally get to know everything that happened to Tony, they didn't like how they felt like they were forcing Tony aside or abandoning him in some way.

They were unaware that Tony was all but happy to move on and get absorbed into a different discussion, even if he didn't like what they were discussing, it was still better than the awkwardness they had felt earlier.

"Do you know what kind of bird?" Tony nearly face palmed, but he refrained from doing so as Natasha was the one who had asked. Why were both of the assassins so interested in what kind of bird it was? He honestly didn't care; he had wings either way.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. But I think it's an Asgardian bird. The wingspan and the coloring don't match up with any Earth species." Thor perked up at that and was now examining the wings with a critical eye. Tony couldn't stop his wings from flicking nervously.

Thor nodded, "Aye. You are correct Friend Banner. It is a fearsome creature that enjoys feasting on the fingers and toes of others."

The others stilled, but Tony smirked. He sure as heck knew he was never going to eat that, but it would be fun to spook a certain archer. "Hey Clint, I think I'll take you up on that food offer." He struggled not to laugh at Clint's face.

Bruce smiled, being the only other person in the room to get the joke. He coughed into his hand to clear the laugh that threatened to come out.

Natasha seemed as stoic as usual, but the twitch of her lips hinted that she understood the joke. But her voice was clear of humor, "Do you know why Loki would have wanted to turn Tony into… that kind of bird?"

"Loki has always had a… peculiar sense of humor."

Everyone raised an eyebrow at that, unsure if peculiar was the right word.

After a few moments, Steve (of course!) went right back to business. "Is any of this going to…" He waved his hand struggling to find a word, "hinder him in the field in any way?"

Bruce shook his head in a no.

Steve was clearly happy with that, but a frown appeared on his face as Clint spoke.

"Did everyone just forget the giant wings he has on his back? I don't see how you're going to fit them into those iron pants of yours, Stark. I don't see this working." Honestly, it hurt a little that Clint doubted that he would be able to work it out. In the six months the Avengers had lived in the tower with him, he had grown to like the archer and somewhat respect him, despite how annoying he could be.

But he felt uplifted as the man with the alter-ego of the Hulk backed him up. "Tony will figure it out eventually, you know that Clint."

Barton turned his eyes to Tony, and the billionaire had just noticed how his wings had somehow wilted when Clint had said his opinion.

The assassin seemed to of noticed as well as he looked slightly guilty. "No, I don't doubt you, Tony. It's just — look, this can go one of two ways. They can be useless, or they can be vulnerable. They can either be locked underneath the suit, and judging by how they're shaking, they don't like that very much. Or they can be outside of the suit where they're vulnerable."

"And either way you're going to have to learn how to use them," everyone looked at Steve, who had spoken in a voice filled with authority.

Tony had been glaring at Clint after he had pointed out how his wings had been shaking, but he had moved it to Steve when he had commanded him to learn to use his wings. His glare slowly faded as he repeated the Captain's words in his head.

When he said to learn how to use them, did that mean learning how to —

"Yes, that includes learning how to fly. Get on the program bird-brain." Tony glared at Clint, mad that he had used his own words against him and mad that he had read him so easily (twice!).

Tony inwardly sighed. He grew so excited at the thought of flight without the suit, but he didn't want to grow attached to the wings. That would lead to so many complications.

The only female in the group voiced her doubts, "But is learning how to fly worth it? I can't see the point of him using his wings to fly with the suit on, and if he even could."

"Well, I think if he were to get training, he would be able to fight with them if he needed to and using them to fly would make them less of a target since they would be moving, so they wouldn't be as vulnerable outside of the suit. As for it weighing too much…" Steve dropped off, looking at the billionaire with eyes that begged for him to finish the sentence.

And then it suddenly clicked. Having wings was just adding an unknown variable to the equation. Now he just needed to solve it and work around it. He blamed his lagging brain.

Tony smirked, finally feeling like himself, even with the foreign things still on his back. The smile was far too similar to the Cheshire Cat's.

"I like a good challenge."

Steve and Bruce smiled, seeming to somehow know that Tony had just gotten back on track, but the others eyed him warily, confused at his sudden determination.

But they could all see the clogs working behind his eyes. His mind was on overdrive.

"Thor, how did Loki get to Earth?" They were startled and greatly puzzled by the sudden change of topic.

"He used the Tesseract," but they were even more startled (even Clint and Natasha, though they didn't show it) when a voice that was not Thor's answered.

Tony and Bruce whirled around, the others only turned their eyes and heads to see, lo and behold, Nick Fury casually exiting the silver elevator.

"How the hell did you get in here Fury!?" Tony so did not want to deal with the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. right now, and he sure as heck didn't want him to know that he had wings.

The couch he was sitting on was facing away from Fury, so the man with an eyepatch couldn't see his feathery appendages, although the end of his left wing was hanging off of the end of his couch in Nick's line of sight.

Maybe if he could slowly — a cough caught his attention and he looked up to see Fury standing right next to the splayed out wing.

Tony's reaction was spontaneous. He jumped backwards; his wings flapped madly and pushed him further away from Fury. Once he was standing next to Bruce and had calmed enough to regain his senses, he noticed how his wings were puffed like an angry or defensive bird. He tried to smooth the feathers down by taking deep breaths and calming while keeping an eye on the man before him.

The billionaire clutched at his arc reactor, "Jesus Nick!"

He glared at his gaping teammates, daring them to say something. They simply closed their mouths and turned to Fury, who only looked at Tony, blinked twice, and then looked away.

Tony had just managed to get his wings smooth, but at that, they only flared again. He thought Fury would at least lift an eyebrow or stare at the sight of him having wings. There was no way he couldn't be at least a little surprised.

"What the hell!?" He shouted as a way of question, but he also just wanted to shout to get rid of the anger he felt towards himself at his ridiculous reaction.

Nick turned back to Tony, and was somehow able to know that the shout had been asking why he wasn't surprised.

"I've had my theories."

"How? I've only had them for a couple hours!"

"Jarvis?" Tony stiffened at that. Fury better not of hacked him. "Care to show them the news footage?"

The AI didn't respond, but the TV to the right of them flickered on.

A brunette in a blue dress stood to the right of what looked to be very poor camera footage that was basically a mass of colors. She started to speak, quickly absorbing the room's attention.

"Sadly, all that is known of the fight that took place earlier today between the Avengers and Loki, the supposed god of mischief and the one responsible for the Battle of New York that took place seven months ago, is because of this very poor camera footage we managed to recover."

The footage was paused as the woman pointed at and summarized the picture. The first person in the film she referred to was Loki, who was a barely discernible black and purple figure. They still couldn't figure out why he had changed his armor; Thor never changed his.

"As you can hopefully see, Loki is holding some sort of staff and looks to be aiming it at Iron Man." The footage played, and they watched as a ball of blue light started to form at the end of the staff. When it got to about the size of a tennis ball, a mass of silver, red, and a hint of gold — Thor — slammed into Loki.

The blue light launched into the air, barely managing to hit the flying figure of red and gold.

Even the poor camera was able to capture how Iron Man looked to be convulsing, visible even inside the suit, as he fell.

Tony tensed, remembering the searing pain that had started in his back, but had quickly spread to his chest and then to his bones.

He remembered feeling the inability to escape the confines of his suit, and he remembered falling — something he had not wanted to revisit.

Then he had felt something catch him and a blur of voices surrounding him.

The genius noticed how his thoughts were corresponding with the video on TV as the Hulk jumped and caught him. The other Avengers immediately rushed to him, and with the help of Jarvis (Tony recalled hearing the familiar British voice in his daze), they found the switch that would unlock the suit.

The moment the suit had opened, Tony had bolted upward. He had curled into himself, held his arms, and tried to hold in a scream as the new wings bursted from his shoulder blades and tore through his shirt.

It was a good thing that the camera that had captured this was so bad; it saw Tony's wings as big black blobs. He couldn't imagine what the public would do if they found out he had wings now.

A quinjet had then arrived, and they had carried the disoriented Tony and his suit to the vehicle.

"Many are wondering what Tony Stark's condition is, and many are worried of where the God of Mischief has gone."

Those were the reporters final words before the TV turned off.

The silence was ruined by Nick. "Anyone care to explain why I wasn't debriefed on the situation?"

"We felt that figuring out if Tony was okay was our first priority, sir," Steve replied, and as much as Tony would deny it, that actually brought a warm feeling to his chest.

The man with an eyepatch continued, showing no emotion at the Captain's answer, "And is there anything I should be informed about?"

"We didn't find anything problematic besides being unable to fit in the Iron Man suit currently, but it should be noted that he can most likely fly."

The director of S.H.I.E.L.D. nodded at the female assassin. "Then as of right now, Iron Man will be taken off of the team roster." The only sign of Tony's inner anxiety was the slight tension of his wings; he had known that Fury was going to say that and had been fully prepared for the stab in the gut. But his earlier panic was resurfacing.

Tony took two calming breaths before registering that Fury was still talking.

"-the Iron Man suit is upgraded to these new conditions."

The billionaire blinked, "What?"

Nick sighed, annoyance evident, "You'll be put back onto the team roster once you get training for those wings and once the Iron Man suit is made to accommodate them."

Tony hated how much the relief he felt showed in his wings. He wasn't being replaced, and he wasn't being permanently taken off of the team. Great, he was being stupid again; Fury had never actually said he would be taken off the team permanently.

"And I trust that the suit will be upgraded quickly?"

Tony nodded. "Good. And once you've fixed the suit and had a decent amount of training, you'll do a team exercise so I can see how well you perform."

The whole team was practically gaping now. "And Stark, mind explaining why you wanted to know how Loki got to Earth?"

Normally, Tony wouldn't of answered and would've kept it to himself, but normally, his brain wasn't filled with so much shock and so exhausted.

"I think that if we take the readings of the Tesseracts energy, then we can use it as a reference and possibly track him." Of course, that depended on Loki using the Tesseract and carrying it with him, but it was a start, even if being unable to do better deeply bothered Tony.

Nick Fury nodded, "I'll have a team help you and Doctor Banner gather the data." Not that they needed it, but again, with a stupefied brain, Tony couldn't gather the energy or the wits to say no.

Fury started to walk to the elevator; they followed him with their eyes.

"I expect to be notified of any problems or when you are ready for the training exercise," he finished speaking just as the elevator doors closed in front of him.

"...What just happened?" Tony didn't feel as pathetic for being so spooked and shocked at that. Clint worked underneath the guy, yet he was still surprised from the whole thing.

The billionaire shrugged in response, and it seemed to get the others out of their frozen state.

Steve cleared his throat, "So, Tony, care explaining what that... thing with Nick was about?"

Tony held in a sigh, leave it to Steve to having to know every little thing about his teammates. He remembered the first couple months of living with the team in the tower. Steve had kept getting in his space, yes he had been nice about it, but it had bothered Tony all the same. It had taken a while for the super soldier to realize that the genius needed his privacy and didn't want some things to be known.

This was one of those things.

Tony wasn't one hundred percent sure why he had jumped backwards and flapped his wings to get away from Fury (he swore that if he had kept flapping his wings like that, he would've flown eventually), but he did have a guess.

Fury and him didn't get along in the slightest, and he had felt — he wasn't so sure now — that Fury would of kicked him off of the team any chance he got. Now that he thought about it, it was stupid for him to think that he would kick him off the team for having wings, but if Nick had wanted him off, he would have found some way to use Tony's wings against him. And that was why Tony hadn't wanted Fury to see his wings in the first place.

The genius figured that his reaction to Nick had been one of the things Bruce hadn't been able to detect with the tests they had done.

He had felt threatened, so he had done the first thing a bird would of done, flee. And that aggravated him to no end.

Tony didn't want the others to know how much being on the team meant to him, even if that might've already been ruined because of his damned wings, but if he could do anything to preserve his secret, he would.

He flipped a hand towards Captain America, "Nope."

Steve looked dubious, "You sure?"

"As sure as…"

Crap, he really was out of it; he couldn't even come up with something to snark back with! He flicked his hand again, acting as some sort of dismissal.

The others eyed him worriedly.

"Friend Stark, perhaps it would in your best interest to retire to bed?"

He would've responded with some sort of snide remark about not being old, but all of his leftover energy suddenly left him.

The billionaire gracelessly fell onto the couch, barely managing to not land on Bruce. He didn't have the strength to care that his wings were bending oddly and uncomfortably as they were stuck between his body and the furniture, bending with the fold of the couch.

Tony shook his head in response to the God of Thunder. "No, we're not done yet."

"We're not?" He managed to roll his eyes at Clint.

"Thor, I know you're not an expert in magic, but do you know the specifics of the spell Loki used? Like if it's going to progress or disappear over time, so on."

"What I say will not be complete truth. It will be based on my little knowledge."

"That's fine, I just want an idea."

Thor grimly nodded, knowing Stark would not be happy with the information.

"I'm afraid it will not disappear over time, as those spells produce effects that are usually much more extreme and potent, and are meant to cause pain. As of the moment, I cannot say for sure if this will progress, but I am hopeful that it will not as you seem to not have gained any more changes since the spell was cast. If no further changes are being made, then I am sad to say that Loki is your only hope of returning to normal."

There was silence. Tony broke it, as nonchalant as ever, "So the spell has either stopped, in which case this is permanent until we can find Loki, or I could still be changing into a giant bird-man?"

Thor didn't have any response to the man's choice of words. "Aye. But if it is of any comfort, if the spell was progressing, you would most likely be in deep pain."

Everyone grimaced, not sure if the words were reassuring.

"Fantastic," Tony shakily stood; his exhaustion showing. He winced at the painful feeling in his wings. He regretted sitting like that, and he knew he wouldn't do that again. "Well, I'm going to bed."

They all stared at him like he had grown two heads. He blamed his normal human body functions for demanding sleep and making him announce that. Tony Stark never just walked off to bed.

He tried to saunter to the elevator to get to his floor, but he was failing miserably.

Tony sure had a long list of things to blame.

The genius froze in his tracks.

And he could blame every single thing on that list for making him forget to call his lovely and beautiful girlfriend to tell her he was alright as she no doubt saw the news.

"So, who's going to call Pepper?"


	2. Insecurities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. I'm terribly slow when it comes to updating.  
> Note that this chapter requires a bit of Iron man 1 & 2 background knowledge.  
> And I got really antsy to upload this, so I've only reread it once, and if they're too many typos and confusing sentences, I'll look over this a couple more times.  
> I hope you guys enjoy the chapter even though it ended up being a filler mostly.

When the Avengers sent him a mixture glares and tired looks after he had asked which one of them was going to call Pepper, Tony was honestly confused. Did they really think that he was going to call her?

She was probably freaking out over the news report. It had revealed the poor quality video of the fight that had created more questions than answers by showing that he had been hit by Loki's magic.

And although he had been busy with tests when he had gotten back to the tower, he still hadn't called her which wouldn't be enough of an excuse to her. Yeah, she was going to murder him!

Tony's new wings, colored in many variations of red, shivered at the thought, and he resisted the hard urge to look over his shoulder and glare at them. He didn't need his teammates to think he was crazy — or crazier.

"She's your girlfriend, call her yourself. Or better yet, call her in here. I want to hear her chew you out," Clint said with a smug smile.

"I believe it will be much more than her chewing Friend Stark. When I do not tell Lady Jane of my ventures…" It was pointless to say how odd it was to see Thor frown and shudder from fright.

"You guys aren't helping. At all."  
"Well," the only redhead in the room drawled. "Prolonging the time it takes you to call her won't make it any better." Tony scowled at Natasha and, only because he knew how to look for it, he saw a small smile grace her lips.

"And you need to sleep Tony." At the reminder of his current exhaustion from the day's events, he didn't have the energy to transfer the scowl from Natasha to Steve.

"Hey, so would this be the one time Tony will actually listen to you Steve?" He did, however, manage to glare at Clint.

"Hah hah, very funny," Tony turned around and stumbled down the corridor (he briefly wondered why the whole team was located on his floor, why not the Avengers' common room?).

His wings dragged along the floor due to his lack of strength to hold them up, and his posture was slumped forward. He probably looked a Hunchback of Notre Dame zombie. The genius grimaced at that flicker of imagery; he hoped he didn't look that bad.

As he moved down the hall to the bedroom that was too far away, Tony barely heard Clint's words, "Jarvis, can you record Tony's and Pepper's conversation?"

Tony smirked and said in a volume only Jarvis would hear, "You know the answer to that buddy."

"Of course, Sir," he could hear the amusement in the AI's voice. "Should I also initiate the Bird Brain protocol?"

The billionaire couldn't hold in a snicker at that; Clint was going to just love that surprise. "You read my mind."

When he reached his room, he wanted to all but collapse on his awaiting bed, but he refused to lay on his stomach due to his arc reactor (the mere thought of putting pressure on it gave him the shivers) and he wasn't sure if sleeping on his back would be comfortable. With the couch incident still fresh in his mind, Tony gingerly laid down on his back, irrationally afraid that just putting some weight on them would hurt (his wings were still sore from when he had haphazardly sat on the couch with his wings underneath him, between him and the piece of furniture. He was never doing that again). His wings were splayed out beside him; the tips of them hanging off the edge even on his exceptionally large bed.

The feeling of the appendages pressed between the bed and his body wasn't entirely comfortable… but it wasn't uncomfortable either.

He sighed; it was the best he could do. It wasn't like he could change it or anything.

"Sir," Jarvis cut in, most likely sensing his unease. "Shall I call Miss Potts?"

"Now's a good as time as ever, I guess." He had nothing against Pepper, and he knew that she deserved to know that he was okay so she wouldn't have to worry any more, as she had surely been doing so even since the team's fight with Loki. Tony was just suddenly melancholy.

"Tony? Is that you?" His mood automatically lightened a bit at her voice. "Please tell me you're the one calling right now and not one of the others telling me your hurt or something because I don't know what—"

"Pepper, are you saying you are actually worried over my safety?" He managed to interrupt her with his usual snark.

"Of course I am!" Pepper responded fiercely. His comment had fallen flat, showing him just how worried she actually was. "That news report was horrible! They should've gotten a better quality video or shown nothing at all! I couldn't understand what was going on! One minute you're doing fine, then the next Loki is shooting you, then you're having a— a seizure, and then those things coming out of your back. What even was that!?"

Tony blinked in surprise; he was usually the one to ramble. He was so shocked that he had failed to fully comprehend what she was saying; her words washing over him. By the time he had understood her last question — which he wasn't sure was rhetorical or not — she had started again. He didn't even know if she was still talking to him.

"And I haven't even mentioned the press! God, those guys are utter morons!" Tony once again blinked in shock; it was rare for Pepper to lose her calm. At least now he knew that no, she wasn't exactly talking to him. "How many times do I have to tell them that I don't know anything! You have to be informed or told of something in order to know it! And then they wouldn't even let me inside the tower!"

Tony wasn't really sure who they was. He could assume that she meant the press, or the agents that would prevent her from coming in due to the press. The winged billionaire managed to get the energy to stand up to look out the large window that spanned the entirety of his wall.

The window was on the same side as the building's entrance, so if the press was as bad as Pepper was saying then he would be able to see it. He felt his eyes widen. From his angle, he shouldn't be able to even see the crowd, yet he could.

Only then did he perceive that Pepper was still talking. He waited for her to pause, knowing that would be the only way to get her to stop.

"Pepper! Look, I'm fine, and I can just send a helicopter or something to pick you up. See? Press problem solved, right there." They both knew that wasn't really true since there was no way to get the press to leave unless they released a statement. Which Pepper couldn't do since she still didn't know what was going on and Tony because of many reasons (the biggest being that he couldn't go out in public at the moment. He was going to have to figure that out, yet another thing to add to his growing list of problems.)

Her sigh echoed through the speakers in the ceiling. "Okay," he heard her take another breath. "Okay, but you better explain to me what happened."

Now for the fun part.

Tony opened his mouth to speak when his throat closed in on itself. He knew wanted to tell Pepper, so she wouldn't need to needlessly worry but… His wings closed against his back self-consciously;he just couldn't get himself to say it aloud (he briefly thought it was the equivalent of saying Voldemort in Harry Potter). Nonetheless, he forced himself to speak, "I… urm.."

Pepper exhaled with a mixture of exasperation and worry. "Fine, explain it to me when I get there."

Tony nodded in relief, even though she couldn't see him. He guessed he really didn't even need to explain to her over the phone since the new appendages would say everything with just a look. He suddenly froze — should he at least warn Pepper about the wings?

The pro would be that she wouldn't be as bewildered, although he probably would have to tell her what not to be shocked about or that would only create more worry, and he didn't particularly want to say his predicament over the phone, for reasons he didn't know. The con would be that she would get the shock of her lifetime.

"Tony?" The sudden noise scared him in the quiet. His wings unconsciously flapped as if to escape, and his feet lifted the from the ground. He couldn't help but let out a grunt of surprise. He stumbled as he tried to gain his balance from the unexpected uplift. "Tony?" Pepper asked again; this time with more urgency. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

"Yep, just fine. Nothing going on here," he answered hurriedly. He winced at how suspicious he had sounded. His tired and addled brain struggled to change the topic. Exhaustion chose to then pull at his limbs, and he sat on his bed. Luckily (and obviously), the bed wasn't a couch, so his wings were free to flow over the sheets.

Sitting down, Tony was painfully reminded of how tired he was. He just wanted sleep, no matter what kind of nightmares would visit him then. And the thought of explaining to Pepper what had happened did not sound appealing in the slightest.  
He abruptly recalled the usual reason Pepper left the tower: meetings.

"Jarvis, when is Pepper's next meeting?" He could practically hear Pepper's confusion at the sudden change of topic.

"It's in ten minutes, Sir."

"And when does the meeting end?"

"At three fifteen pm, Sir."

"I want you to send the helicopter over right when it ends."

"What! Tony, no! I —"

"Pepper, like I said, I'm fine. I'm not hurt, and I'm not going to die. I'm just—" tired, is how he had wanted to finish. There wasn't anything else to it, or that's how he wanted it. Tony was tired, angry, confused, and conflicted. He even felt betrayal, though he didn't know why. But those feelings didn't matter, they never had.

He opened his mouth to continue, but his mouth didn't make any noise, like there was a rock in his throat. Tony was only then aware of the uncomfortable feeling in his gut, like his emotions were physically hurting him.

His wings moved to clench against his back. It was almost like they were trying to comfort him, yet the limbs' movement matched his current emotions completely, displaying it like an open book. This just seemed to aggravate him. He just wished that they would go away; they pushed off of him like he was on fire. He glared at them (but weren't they technically a part of him?) and he wondered why all of this was affecting him so much; they were just wings.

Only then did he realize that Pepper was still waiting for him to finish his statement.

"I'm only tired, and I actually want to sleep, for once. That's it." Tony actually hoped he hadn't sounded harsh, but he was at his limit.

"Alright." He could imagine her head nodding and lips thinning from her resigned tone. "But we have to talk when you wake up, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." He was actually fine with that, then he would be rested — or at least as rested as he usually was, which wasn't all that much. At least he could stand the idea of talking to her then.

Tony felt his wings relax, and he guessed now was a good time to tell her to be prepared when she came.

"Uh, Pep?" He could practically hear her raising a brow. "So like I've said, I'm fine... — ish." He could practically sense an incoming lecture about the difference between truths and lies. "But," he interjected quickly, "what happened may have caused some… side effects." Which wasn't really true at all because the whole reason Loki casted the spell was to turn him into a bird.

"Side effects!?" He winced. "Like what, exactly?"

"Er…" Tony could tell that Pepper was waiting for him to continue, but he didn't. A few moments passed in silence.

"Fine, I guess I'll see it when I get there. As long as you're okay?" The last sentence ended in a question, and Tony hummed a yes in reassurance. Pepper sighed, "Sleep well Tony." There was a beep as she ended the call.

He ran a hand across his forehead, "Remind me to never get her worked up again. K' Jarvis?"

"Don't you do so on a daily basis, Sir?"

He glared at the ceiling and decided he was far too tired for another squabble. The genius finally laid down on his bed. Sleep claimed him instantly despite the odd and unfamiliar feeling of his wings digging into the bed.

But, just as Tony had expected, even with a thoroughly exhausted mind, his brain was still able to conjure nightmarish images to haunt his sleep. He had never been sure of what exactly it would be every other — or sometimes each — night: Afghanistan or the Wormhole. Or maybe even Obadiah Stane. The nightmares usually appeared if something in the day was remotely similar to it, even if he had not even thought about it (he would be sent into a panic attack otherwise), and in his line of work, it happened quite often.

And sadly, he could somewhat see why his brain would compare the events of the day to both Afghanistan and the Stane incident. Gaining the new feathery appendages had not been pleasant in the slightest. He had felt like he had been — he daresay — violated by them, and they were frequently betraying him by showing his emotions. Both of which Stane had done. He had betrayed Tony by taking the arc reactor, and he had violated him just by touching Tony's literal heart.

And of course, Afghanistan. Need he explain? There was pain, violation, and a little bonus, trepidation. He had had no idea if he would die in that cave (his dread alone had nearly killed him), and the emotions were similar with his newfound wings. Of course it wasn't anywhere near as extreme as it had been in Afghanistan, and he in fact found his current apprehension absolutely ridiculous. But he couldn't help that fact that he usually knew or was able to at least predict what was going to happen, and with the wings, just like with Afghanistan, he had no idea of what might occur. The horrible couch incident was proof of that. The wings had thrown a curveball at him, one he hadn't been able to catch, and that absolutely petrified him, though he would never admit it aloud.

And so he watched as the arc reactor was taken by Stane, only to be replaced by the terrorists known as The Ten Rings. He thrashed and screamed in their clutches, practically reliving the events.

Tony watched as Obie— Obadiah leaned towards his face to taunt him while he took out his heart. He waited for the coming pain of the shrapnel delving into his chest and his heart failing him, when the billionaire was suddenly cloaked in an unidentifiable fluff. Stane vanished from his sight, along with his Malibu house in the background (or perhaps it was the cave, he wasn't too sure). He could only see darkness that felt nothing like the Wormhole. It was warm, comforting, and he didn't feel like he was on the brink of death.

For the first time in so long, the nightmares left, and they didn't touch him for the rest of his sleep.

When his eyes weren't forced open from a viscous dream and instead calmly opened on their own, Tony could only blink in puzzlement. He didn't remember his nightmare at all; he just knew he had gone through one near the beginning of his sleep. And he always remembered it when he woke up, since it normally was the reason he awoke.

Tony briefly wondered what had stopped the dreams before he lifted a hand to his eye, or he tried to anyway. His hand had been stopped by something... feathery — his eyes snapped downwards to see large red wings wrapped around his entire body. He reeled in astonishment and bewilderment before his memory snapped back to him.

Annoyance instantly replaced his surprise. He wasn't exactly sure as to why. They had gotten rid of the nightmares after all, but that was probably why he was irritated. He didn't need to be comforted and coddled by anything or anyone, even if the seemingly foreign things were technically him, though they sure didn't seem like it.

He lifted a hand to move the left wing off of him (he didn't like the idea of moving it like he would his other limbs) when it decided to move for him. It flopped off to the side to stretch along the bed before his hand could reach it.

The genius stared and, forcing his irrational discomfort aside, sat up. His right wing rolled off of his stomach and automatically curled against his back as best as it could, considering that the bed was still underneath him.

As he sat up, Jarvis started the usual procedure of spouting the time, date, and current weather whenever he awoke. Jarvis had always done that, even before Afghanistan, but for quite some time, the purpose of it was to bring him back from any nightmare-filled daze he might be in upon awakening. It was nice to know that Jarvis's current monologue wasn't needed for once. Tony blocked out Jarvis's voice, instead choosing to stand up.

His arms stretched over his head, and his wings followed. The fact that they hit the ceiling went unnoticed as he was distracted by the sharp uncomfortable pain caused by the sensitive feathers of his wings rubbing against the fabric of his grey t-shirt. He almost wished that his shirt had been torn apart when his wings had bursted from his back. Then he wouldn't have to deal with the trouble of taking the clothing off, and it would've simply made him happier in general because it made much more sense if it had been torn to shreds.

Tony's wings shuffled in accordance to his thoughts, creating further discomfort that made his sleepy-and-deprived-of-coffee-brain decide that it wanted the shirt off now, and unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough to realize that he wouldn't be able to take it off through normal means… and he didn't hear Jarvis saying that that wasn't the best course of action.

Before he knew it, he was pulling the shirt over his head, and it was soon bunched around his wings like ropes that were far too tight.

Shit.

The genius, logic once again failing him, automatically started to try and escape the bindings by flexing his wings (no matter how discomforted he was by doing so). Up, down, inward, and then outward. Every movement causing more ridiculous pain (just why was all this hurting so damn much?). He grinded his teeth onto his lip in an attempt to contain a building whimper.

Each time he moved, it proceeded to make his bundled shirt change from laying on top of the feathers to sliding between them, displacing them and causing them to turn in disarray. And holy shit it hurt!

It was then that Tony decided that it wasn't the wings he hated, it was the feathers.

"Do you require assistance, Sir?" Jarvis's voice may of sounded monotone but Tony knew better. Jarvis did care that he was hurting, but he was actually waiting for him to cave and admit that he needed help. That was something the AI always got mad at him for, just like Pepper and Rhodey.

"No, Jarvis. I'm sure I can figure out how to take a shirt off on my own." In a fit of anger, his wings threw themselves outward, pulling and stretching the shirt with them. A very poor decision on his part — even though he hadn't had much choice in the matter. From this movement, the shirt was even more compressed around the wings, and therefore, bending the feathers at even more drastic and painful angles.

Tony's teeth released his lip as he could no longer hold in a sharp grunt of pain that sounded far too much like a squawk to him, and he was ashamed to know that his eyes were glistening with unshed tears. The feathery appendages instantly went limp, but it did nothing to stop the numbing agony. He fell to his knees, the pain tiring him.

"... Your team will not think less of you, Sir." The genius's wings couldn't help but twitch at that. Jarvis was being extremely pushy, addressing two of his insecurities. Not only had his AI said the words your team — words that still made him nervous even after being an Avenger for seven months — but Jarvis had also referred to his subconscious need to prove himself to them... since he was just a man in a giant suit.

Tony's mouth voiced the sum of his thoughts, "You're really pushing it, J."

His AI ignored him, "Miss Potts and the other Avengers are currently in the kitchen located in the common room. Shall I inform them of your current predicament?" The rest of Jarvis's statement was lost to Tony after the mention of Pepper.

"Wait, Pepper? When did she get here?"

"She arrived at the tower at approximately six forty-five yesterday."

"Yesterday? How did— What?"

"It is currently six thirty am. You have been asleep for about sixteen hours, Sir." It took a few seconds for Tony to register that before he recoiled in shock. He was sure the emotion was clear on his face. He hadn't slept that long for quite some time. He grimaced, remembering that Pepper's meeting had ended at three o'clock… Yesterday.

Jarvis was quick to answer his unstated question, "At three fifteen yesterday, I informed Miss Potts that you were still sleeping, and she requested to postpone the helicopter's arrival until her final meeting ended at six thirty pm. The others informed her of what had occurred during your fight with Loki except for the effects of his spell as Agent Barton was able to convince the others to let you tell Miss Potts of yourpredicament yourself."

At the reminder of his wings, he once again felt the dulling pain that had been pushed to the back of his mind at the mention of Pepper. And he was once again reminded of the fact that he needed to tell her. He guessed this was the best time.

Tony swallowed, "Jarvis… Call Pepper up."

It was only then that he realized that the light blue of his arc reactor was the only light source in his bedroom, expanding all the way out to its corners where it fought off the shadows… and it was completely exposed. He was about to tell Jarvis to only let Pepper up, when the room's door opened to show both her and all the others. Despite his body's protests against the movement, his wings immediately stiffened and clenched to his back. Tony might trust his teammates, but it wasn't quite enough yet to override what Obadiah Stane had done.

He was on the floor on the right side of the bed, and his head was barely peeking over the top of it, so the other Avengers and Pepper couldn't see his problem.

He could hear a faint tremor in his girlfriend's voice, "Jarvis, lights please."

They stepped inside the room. Pepper eyed him with worry while the others did so with both confusion and concern.

"Friend Stark," Thor spoke first, "may I ask as to why you on the floor and hiding like so?"

"Nope," Tony was quick to reply, his voice tight. A small amount of guilt was added to the emotions already churning through his gut when a sad and highly concerned frown marred Thor's face. "And didn't I only call Pepper up? What are you guys doing here?"

Steve chose to speak for the others, "When we heard Jarvis say you needed help instead of saying you wanted to talk to Pepper—"

Tony could see his girlfriend smile at that; it had taken an unbelievably long time to stop Steve from saying Miss potts.

"— we… uh thought we should…" A light blush dusted his cheeks, and he gave a light shrug.

Tony groaned and turned his eyes to the ceiling, "Well, you guys can leave now. I just need Pepper—"

He was interrupted by a sharp laugh, and his eyes snapped back down to see that Clint had walked around the bed, allowing him to see exactly why Tony had needed Pepper's help. The archer pointed at him while he tried to talk between his fading laughter, "That's karma right there!"

Poor Pepper looked further worried and confused at that, but she didn't move from her spot near the door, "Karma?"

"Yeah, that jerk woke me up with the chicken dance song and then flooded my room with feathers. And, everytime I go to the kitchen or the bathroom, Jarvis plays the duck song."

Since Tony was the only real one with a sense of humor — and the victim of his joke was the only one who would've laughed — his chuckle was the only one to fill the room. Although he could've sworn he saw a hint of a smile on Pepper's face. Good.

"So Tony," he lifted his eyes from Pepper's moving mouth to her eyes, "What did Clint do to make you do that?" And of course, Tony knew she wasn't trying to counsel their differences. He knew she had figured out that this had to do with what Loki had done to him, and this was supposed to be his moment of revelation.

Tony swallowed, and his brain once again froze, "Uh…"

Clint scoffed, and he knew the other was rolling his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the master archer walking up to him. His head whipped around to look at him, but before he knew it, there was a hand on his arm that was pulling him up. He almost didn't hear Clint speak — "Just fucking stand up."

The billionaire was quick to step out of Barton's reach — because physical contact plus a bare arc reactor sometimes equalled flashback to Obadiah. He was lucky he had seen Clint walk towards him. The other gave him an odd look but otherwise didn't say anything.

Then he remembered Pepper; he turned around. The others were looking at the shirt encasing the limbs on his back while Pepper was looking at his wings in general, seemingly oblivious to the fabric.

As her eyes scanned them, he briefly wondered if this was comparable to a girl waiting for the result of her pregnancy test, just far less extreme… and nerve-wracking… and life changing. So, actually, the two situations really weren't similar… at all. And where had he been going with this?

Tony had the sudden urge to jump when her eyes moved to his face, examining him. He nervously waited for her reaction, and he certainly had not expected her to sport a small smile and giggle. He was glad he wasn't the only one unable to keep the surprise off his face.

"I can't believe you were afraid to tell me about this Tony. You actually had me worried for a while there." She let out another giggle. "Hold tight, I'm going to grab some scissors." Pepper walked out the door.

"So," the archer drawled. "Is it her time of the —"

"Clint," the red headed Avenger spoke. He stiffened.

"Shutting up."

Tony held in a snort. He supposed Pepper's behaviour had been odd, but there was a much better explanation. He could admit he had made the wings seem way worse than they actually were, and Pepper had most likely expected something worse to have been done to him. She probably had just been happy to know that she hadn't been right.

It was then that Pepper walked in with a rather big pair of scissors.

"Go ahead and sit down Tony." He sat back down on the floor, not wanting to sit on the bed for the fact he had to move his wings to do so.

Pepper squatted down behind him. She gripped the shirt with one hand and although she had done it gently, he winced as it had managed to pull on the red feathers. The genius could practically hear her frown, "Steve, do you mind coming over here and holding the shirt for me?"

"Not at all."

Very quickly, the super soldier moved and sat on his heels beside Pepper. He grabbed the top and bottom of the shirt closest to his shoulder blades, and, just like Pepper had, he pulled them as gently as he could. Once again, Tony couldn't hide his flinch.

He could feel the clothing move against the feathers as the scissors cut through it. The uncomfortable feeling was hard to ignore. His wings shuffled in both irritation and embarrassment. They instantly stilled when he was lightly slapped on the back of his head.

"Stop moving, you'll make it worse," the strawberry-blonde behind him said.

"It's not my fault. They move on their own."

"Well try to keep them still. It won't do you any good if the feathers are bent."

He snorted (he ignored the second slap to the head), some feathers were already bent because of his carelessness yesterday when sitting on a certain couch. Nevertheless, her words circled through his head. He turned his head to the left and looked over his shoulder, "Since when were you a feather expert Miss Potts?"

"I have to be prepared for anything when it comes to you, Mister Stark," she answered slowly, focused on cutting the shirt.

Tony raised a brow and smirked, "Pepper?" She hummed. "You just found out about the wings." She looked up at him then, obviously trying to hide a blush.

"It's obvious you don't want the feathers bent, Mister Stark, or is common logic too simple for a certified-genius like yourself?" His cocky expression didn't change in the slightest at her jab, and he waited. When she groaned, he knew he had won.

"I had a pet cockatiel when I was a kid. He was really clumsy, and I always had to fix his feathers for him."

A chuckled sounded: Clint. He had forgotten that the others were still there. His wings ruffled as he turned his head to look at the archer.

"That's great. Your girlfriend's using her experience with pets to—"

"Haha," Tony interrupted, his voice tight with sarcasm. "Yeah it's great, hilarious. How about you go now!?"

When it was clear that Clint didn't want to leave quite yet, Bruce cut it. "Jarvis do you mind playing the Duck Song?"

Barton walked out the door before the song could start. "Alright, alright. I got it. Leaving!"

Tony smiled. He was glad he could count on Bruce, but he was also happy that all of his attempts to get the man with the alter-ego of the Hulk to open up had not been for naught. He gave his science bro a thumbs-up.

Bruce nodded with a smile of his own, "You're welcome."

Pepper's scissors reached the tip of his shirt, and the pressure around his wings vanished as the cloth fell to the ground. He sighed in relief and was happy to see that there wasn't further pain created when his wings slumped down to rest against his back, "Ugh, thank god."

With Tony's declaration of relief, he had expected the other Avengers to be satisfied and leave, yet they still stood and the captain remain crouched beside him.

He tried to relax his wings and make them fall to the ground, lose their remaining tension, but it was like they were glued to his back or had a sudden case of stage fright. He couldn't get them to move, not when he was this nervous with the arc reactor being bare around so many people.

Pepper's hand moved to the open space right in between the wings in a soothing manner, and Tony relaxed somewhat. Not just because it was comforting but because it told him that she knew about his messy emotions.

He felt her turn her head to face Steve, but she spoke in a voice loud enough to be heard by the other people in the room. "Why don't you guys go ahead and finish your breakfast? We'll join you in a little bit."

The Captain blushed, "Sure, we'll leave you two alone."

"Why Steve," he looked at Tony, "Since when were you so straightforward?" The billionaire waggled his eyebrows. Steve's blush intensified. He opened his mouth and no sound came out. He all but fled the room, and the others followed him after shooting Tony exasperated looks.

The hand on his back moved to slap his head for the fourth time that day.

She huffed, "Was that really necessary?"

"I should be asking you that," he said as he rubbed the back of his head.

Pepper grabbed the collapsed shirt that lay around his feet. He rotated in order to see her better until her voice commanded him to stop. "Don't move, we're going to try and get this shirt back on you."

He raised an eyebrow and ignored her words, moving anyway. He was facing her before she could say anything else.

She glared at him and groaned, "Don't you ever listen?" He opened his mouth. "No," she answered her own question. "Of course you don't." Tony smirked and moved his eyes down to look at the spread out shirt at the same time she did. It had an almost perfectly straight line, ruined by the tearing of the scissors, going down it's back. Pepper looked back up at him with a smug smile, "Turn around."

"But Pep," he whined childishly, "I don't wanna move!"

She adopted a sorrowful look, placed her hand on her cheek, and sighed, "Shame. I guess I'm going to be lonely tonight." His eye twitched. Pepper sighed again, prolonging it far more than necessary. "And to think that I wanted to show you a new trick."

"Wait, trick? What trick?" Her eyes moved to the ceiling, and she sighed once more, ignoring his words completely. "What trick? Pepper, you're killing me here!"

"Now if only you could turn around so I can help you with your little shirt problem." Her blue eyes finally moved down to look at his brown ones. She waited. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched his resolve slowly crumble.

Tony grumbled as he finally turned around so his back faced her. "Huh," he looked over his shoulder at her voice. "Guess you can listen."

His wings collapsed to the ground at that, showing his irritation and defeat clearly. "You aren't fair."

"I know." Tony heard the cloth move. "Now move your wings up."

A moment passed, yet the appendages remained lax. Would she believe him if he said he couldn't move them? He really hadn't been able to before, but he knew he could now. He just really didn't want to. It was like it was his stubborn way to refuse them. If he could have someway to show that they weren't really a part of him, it would be like saying that they would disappear and go away sooner.

"Tony?" Pepper's voice was soft, lacking the teasing tone from before. For once, he wasn't sure he wanted her to know about something, so, after another moment of hesitation, he slowly lifted the wings up so they framed his head like the letter Y. The feeling of them moving through the air and against both his back and the glass of the large window unfamiliar. The soft fabric of the cut shirt pressed up against his back and wings; he assumed Pepper was trying to see how to make it so he could wear it.

"You know," the sudden sound of her voice caused both him and his wings to flinch slightly in surprise. "They're not all that bad, Tony." He was about to send a glare over his shoulder when he recalled that his wings were in the way. The genius settled for giving a scoff full of disbelief and slight irritation. She was too damn perceptive, seriously how did she know he hated the new limbs?

"It's a very important skill that I had to acquire after working for you for so long."

Did he say that out loud?

"You did," she confirmed.

Huh.

"And," Pepper continued, "Since you're so damn quiet about everything — I mean come on — who doesn't tell someone they're dying!?"

Tony winced and offered a cough, "Getting side-tracked here, Pep."

She went on oblivious, "I sort of have to figure you and your wacky emotions out for you."

Tony wisely stayed silent, figuring this was her way to get her own wacky emotions out — the ones created from her worry for him. First had been the odd happiness and next was anger. It had gone about the same after New York.

The strawberry blonde sighed, "Anyway, I really don't think these wings are all that bad," she distractedly brushed her hand over one, making him shiver. "I mean you really just have to find a new way to wear to your shirts, which can be solved by doing this," her tone caused him to turn around, wings dropping back down to his back and the carpeted floor.

Pepper had positioned the scissors so they would cut an odd u shape from shoulder to shoulder. The new hole in the shirt went past his shoulder blades, allowing his wings to be free of the shirt.

She handed it to him. "Here, put this on," he did as she asked, putting his arms through the sleeves; the back of the shirt hanging off to his sides. He watched her walk to the other side of the bed to the dresser. She reached a hand into the drawer to pull out three — baby pins?

Why were those in his room?

"Not a word Tony," she said looking straight at him.

"What—"

She moaned in irritation, a light blush on her cheeks, "You're a genius figure it out." He blinked, and she groaned again, her blush getting darker, "I sleep in here, with you. And sometimes, my clothes get ripped, and I refuse to go out wearing your clothes when people like Clint or people from the 1940's live in the same household as us."

Ah, right, and Pepper hated sewing… Her words sunk in, and he smirked, "You afraid of little ol' Clint?"

She crossed her arms, "Well, he is the one who kept interrupting everyone to make sure I didn't know anything about you, just because you had pissed him off." Tony held in a snicker; Pepper only used vulgar language when she was flustered or, of course, angry. His wings, however, once again betrayed him as they hopped off his back in what could only be described as a laugh (his face also somewhat helped in that conclusion). Pepper glared, "Do you want me to fix your shirt or not?"

"By all means, go right ahead Miss Potts."

Before he knew it, the three baby pins were secure and connecting the back of the shirt. The small pieces of metal were cold against his back, but that was really the only discomfort.

"There we go," Pepper said, rubbing her hand along the spot where the baby pins were located. "See? Easily fixed. We can probably have Jarvis change a couple more shirts and replace the baby pins with velcro. And there we go, shirt problem solved," her hand slowly moved up, so it was on the bare skin between the two wings. He trembled at the touch and felt his wings lose all the tension that had remained. "I'm sure with that genius brain of yours, you can tweak your suits to fit these in no time, and I know I'll get hell for for canceling all of your press conferences… but I can do it until we figure out a way to hide these when you're in public."

He looked back at her, "How do you expect to hide these?"

Tony was slightly surprised when she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, "I have the utmost faith that we can figure it out. Besides the fact that I already have a few ideas."

"Care to share?"

She hummed, "I'll wait for everyone else to hear…" He expected her to continue with a teasing comment, but there was an only silence. She brushed her hands over his wings to delicately straighten the feathers.

He knew she was expecting him to say something, though he wasn't sure as to what. He mulled over what she said and realized the underlying meaning.

Pepper had said there wasn't anything really to worry about since the majority of the problems caused by the wings were either solved or addressed, and even she, her little mind reader, couldn't understand as to why he was so… negative about things that weren't all that bad.

Yet he couldn't explain how in his eyes (along with much exaggeration), it was far too reminiscent of Obadiah, of being betrayed. Not to mention that they were a huge nuisance.

But he supposed he hadn't looked at the positives of these yet, and if he were to have them for a while, it would be much more beneficial if he were to accept them, even if that could lead to him loving and becoming attached to them (but he was technically already attached to them, so he had one part down). And he could tell that his emotions were confusing and weighing Pepper down.

Tony moved his head to look back at Pepper and reassure her that he would get himself together when his eyes caught the sight of the scenery just beyond the window, to the rolling clouds and the over-reaching sky. For once, he wasn't mad at his wings when they responded to his thoughts and vibrated with an odd and newfound energy.

Step one of getting himself to like them: use wings for what they're meant for.

"Pepper, I need to go to the roof."


End file.
